Shattered
by SheegothBait
Summary: "No Shepard without Vakarian." That's what she told him. But she didn't realize that goes both ways... A short 2-part FemShepxGarrus. Set directly after ME3. New chapters on their way!
1. Broken

**A/N: I am a strong believer in the Indoctrination theory, so this is based on said theory. Hope you all enjoy!**

Shepard pulled away from him as Grunt and Jacob dragged him back into the Normandy, and he struggled, trying frantically to get back to his Spectre.

"Shepard!" He shouted "SHEPARD!"

But his cries bounced back at him, reflected off the Normandy's hull, the echoes empty and hollow. Gasping for breath, he fought desperately. She needed him; she couldn't do this alone. Powerful hands held him back, preventing him from getting at the Normandy's hatch. All he saw, all he noticed was that gray-silver hull; it was all that stood between him and Shepard. He had to get free so he could go after her. He heard nothing for a long minute, saw nothing but that hull. All others were enemies; they had to be neutralized so he could get out and back to Shep. Wooziness hit him suddenly, and he staggered, falling to his knees. He heard Liara's voice then, soft and gentle, but undoubtedly worried.

"Garrus!"

He pulled at the hands holding him again.

"Garrus, you need to relax! If they don't stop the bleeding, you're going to die!"

"Shepard…" He moaned. A cool hand touched his cheek and he looked up into a pair of large blue eyes.

"Please, Garrus…"

He went still. Hands helped him onto a soft surface, but he stared only at Liara's face, at her eyes that were almost like Shepard's, but not quite. Her small hand slid into his.

"Tell Shepard…." His vision flickered dangerously, "tell Shepard I'm sorry."

He felt a sharp sting in the side of his neck as she nodded. The strength fled from his body, and his arms fell limp. As his sight faded, he dimly wondered if he had seen correctly, and if that had been a tear on Liara's cheek. Then sleep engulfed him, and he knew no more.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

He woke up in a blank whiteness, with the familiar dull ache in his body and blank haze in his head of post-surgery. He moved against the blankets covering him, felt the tug of an IV in the back of his hand. He growled softly, his other hand jumping to the tube, ready to rip it out, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." An accented voice said calmly.

He looked up into the face of the Normandy's doctor, Kerin Chakwas.

"Why?" His question was short, hard, and dry.

"Because you did far more internal damage to yourself than we thought. More than one ruptured organ, multiple broken bones, plenty of burns. Not to mention massive internal bleeding. If you pull that out," she pointed to the tube, "you're going to cut off the painkiller, which is the only thing keeping the pain at bay."

He moved his hand away from the tube, staring up at the hospital lights.

"Where are we? The Normandy?"

"No. Joker took us out of range of the Reapers, and we set down at the nearest station. I stabilized you, then had others take over for me. I'm not an expert on turian anatomy, so I needed help with damage as extensive as yours."

"Where is everybody? Did you…" his voice stopped working as he realized what was missing. "Wh-where's Shepard?"

Chakwas looked at him, pain evident in her eyes. Garrus scrambled to get up, and the doctor tried to hold him back without success. He ripped free of the IV tether, desperate to get out of the hospital. Where he was going, he didn't know, but he just wanted to get away. It felt as though his heart was going to burst from the pain. He was howling; the agony was too great for him to bear, but the sound of his cry was distant, far away, as though happening to someone else.

An age passed in a moment. Then the moment was over and he collapsed, spent. His breathing was ragged and painful as he knelt there, choking on his own grief. A small, cool, strong hand gripped the back of his cowl, pulling him to his numb feet, and he blindly stumbled as the human guided him back to his bed. He vaguely registered the doctor speaking soothing nothings to him as she rested a hand against his arm. He ignored it, burying his talons in the soft blanket and trying to ignore both the pains from his wounded body and the knife in his heart. He wept without tears, his mandibles and teeth ripping into the pillow as his agonized gasps echoed through the still air.

The doctor stroked his cowl, trying to comfort him, and he felt a small sting. His eyelids suddenly drooped, and he fell back into peaceful darkness.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Chakwas staggered out of the ward into the waiting room, her hair tousled from wrestling with Garrus. Half the crew of the Normandy had gathered, with the exception of Grunt, Javik, and Zaeed, who, she was told, were still picking through the rubble. She felt a dozen pairs of eyes lock into her, the crew members waiting to hear what she had to say. Tali spoke up first, her voice tense and tremulous with worry.

"We heard him. Is he okay?"

"Physically, he's stable. But he's in terrible pain over his loss. I gave him a sedative so he could rest in peace, but if his psychological condition does not improve, then I can't say whether or not he will heal."

"We could still lose him."

Chakwas nodded grimly. "A person's ability to heal comes down to their immune system and their willpower. If someone with trauma like his doesn't want to get better or believes that he is doomed, then…."

She let the sentence trail off. There was no need to finish it.


	2. Healed

Breath seeped into her lungs, a mere trickle of air. She stirred faintly, lying utterly still as she took another gulp of air. She felt as though plate-glass was shattering inside her chest when she inhaled, but her body would not be denied. Her heart began to pound inside her chest, suddenly desperate to escape the soothing blackness that promised relief from all sensation, that even now threatened to suck her into the dark embrace of nothing. She couldn't move; she didn't feel any pain yet, but somehow she knew her condition was not good.

Memory failed her. Where was she? How had she gotten here? A blank wall of silence met her questing mind, and she felt a dull panic rise within her. Movement was still beyond her, but she tried anyway, only to be met with agonizing, blinding pain. She gasped, which only tortured her overworked lungs and caused more pain. Red edged with black blotted out her gray vision, threatening her consciousness, and she did her best to wait out the pain.

Finally it subsided, leaving once more that hollow numbness that belied the damage she had sustained. From a long, long way off she heard the low rumble of voices. She tried to make a noise, even a whisper, but failed. She heard the sounds of rubble shifting, and voices again, closer and sharper this time.

"….Should go in…..Getting dark." The gravelly tones sounded familiar.

"You go.…See fine." She recognized that voice too, with its unusual accent, but she could not for the life of her remember where she'd heard it.

"Shepard!" The bellow of a krogan was unmistakable. "Sheaprd!"

_Here! I'm here! _Her brain thought, but the words didn't make it to her throat. It was all she could do to keep breathing as the pain steadily increased. She heard the crunch of boots, this time quite close.

"Look…" The gravelly voice had gone quiet, and a rock scraped close to her head.

The weight pinning her body down shifted away from her limbs a piece at a time and with much grunting and scraping. Pain flared and died, causing her breath to come in hitched gasps, but finally light pierced the dark and she made out three amorphous figures through the gray haze of her vision. The gravelly voice let out a whole string of curses, then said, "Get someone down here _right fuckin' now_. We found Shepard, but it's bad."

A great shadowy shape filled her vision.

"Don't touch her." the accented voice snapped. "She may have internal trauma, and…..." She didn't hear the rest of it. Her brain could only grasp at fragments, and she felt a kind of lightheadedness that made concentrating all the more difficult.

"Come on, Shepard." The krogan growled. Hs voice had gotten very distant again, and Shepard knew she was about to pass out.

"Hold on, Shepard. Just hold on. Just…."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Chakwas sat at her desk, nursing a cup of black coffee and a headache. Garrus' condition, as predicted, had not gotten any better. His larger wounds still bled sluggishly, cause for concern given that they should have shown at least some progress with the aid of modern medicine. He never complained, but he refused to see or speak to any of the Normandy crew. She could tell he was hurting badly, but any attempts to comfort him were met with bitter, distant comments, warning friends away. He didn't want to hear it, obviously. He sat still and let her treat him, but he completely ignored her attempts to talk to him. She likewise ignored his silence, continuing to prod at the walls he'd raised around himself until he started growling.

When it got to that point, he became dangerous, not to be toyed with, and she left discreetly. She'd seen more than one man who had gotten mauled by a pissed-off turian, mostly in the year or two after the First Contact wars, and she had no interest at all in becoming the next casualty. She wished she could help him, but he had shut her out, and Chakwas feared that the only way to get to him was to bring Shepard back. If she was right, though, Shepard wasn't coming back. It was a terrible loss for all of the Normandy crew, and even more so for the turian. She only wished he could see that and allow them to help him.

She checked the time and got up with a sigh. She had to check on Garrus. Everyone else refused to do the job; the turian had distanced himself from everyone around him, and she was the only one who could deal with his caustic nature without being negatively affected the rest of the day. She opened the door to his room with the caution of a bomb tech disarming a nuke. He was lying in bed, curled up, back to the door, seemingly oblivious to her entry. But she knew he'd heard her. Turians had excellent hearing; he was just ignoring her. But she didn't want to seem like she was barging in on him, so she called his name.

"Garrus?"

She heard a low grunt as he sat up, which was all she was likely to get from him. Chakwas entered carefully, shutting the door behind her. Antiseptic stung her nostrils, but under that there was a faint but noticeable foul smell that made her cringe. He didn't meet her eyes as she walked around in front of him, but refused to let go of the blanket he had clutched around his shoulders. She tugged at it, trying to pull it down, but he still wouldn't let go. She let go with an exasperated sigh.

"Garrus," She told him sternly, hands on her hips, "You have to let me help you. If I can't help you, you won't heal."

He didn't move, but let out a low growl as she tugged at the blanket again.

"Garrus, don't be so-" she stopped as he let the sheet drop. His chest and pants were covered in dried blood, and his arms, where he wasn't protected by scales, bore long slashes, evidence of severe damage from a knife or...talons.

"Garrus….What did you do?" Chakwas asked softly.

He crossed his arms and stared resolutely at the ceiling, mandibles trembling. The expression in his eyes was too painful for her to bear.

"When did you do this, Garrus?" she pressed, turning one of his hands out towards her. He shook his head mutely. The wounds had closed already, so there was no point in using medi-gel on them. Self-harm was a very, very dangerous behavior, though, and one that should be discouraged at all cost.

"You can't do this to yourself. Do you have any idea how dangerous the infection could be?"

"Yes." He had closed his eyes, tightly, clearly in significant pain.

"Then why do you do it?"

"The physical pain…is easier to deal with." His voice cracked, dry and miserable.

"I understand, but you _cannot _do this to yourself. You're already wounded enough. If you continue this, we're going to have to file your talons down. You know that, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk to me about this?"

"No."

"Garrus…" She waited until he looked at her. "You have to stop this. All right?"

He nodded, eyes closed, and she gently put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm here to help you. Just tell me what I need to do."

He shook his head, and she sighed and began to peel back the bandage from his shoulder. She gagged as the long, deep, ragged wound was revealed. Her stomach jolted threateningly at the mix of blue dextro-amino blood and thick, slightly greenish pus oozing from between the two edges of the laceration, but she held it back. She hadn't gotten this far by being sick at the sight of blood, but this was a different matter. The wound had gotten infected because of its failure to close properly, and the smell was enough to make even a surgeon slightly ill. The hospital had him on a special diet to help accelerate the healing process, but he wasn't eating much, if at all, and Chakwas knew it.

She cleaned and dressed both of his wounds without comment, noticing that the other injury looked much the same. If he was bothered by the sting of the antiseptic, he didn't show it, staring blankly into space somewhere over her shoulder. She finished up, stripped off her gloves, and tossed them in the biohazard container before turning back to him.

"Garrus, do you need anything? Anything at all?"

There was a long pause, and then he said, "I can't sleep." Hs voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

"Why?"

"Nightmares…bad ones." He put a hand over his face. "I don't want to sleep." He shivered. Whatever these night terrors were, if they were enough to scare him out of getting proper rest, then they were a serious problem.

"I can give you something tonight, but you can't make this a habit. Get changed into clean clothes and I will come back with it, all right?"

He nodded a little.

"I'm here for you if you need me, Garrus. You know that." She told him softly, pausing at the door frame.

He said nothing in return, so she sighed and left to get the medication, closing the door behind her. Making a quick decision, she decided to stop by her desk beforehand to log the information. Upon opening her terminal, however, she discovered that someone had sent her a message. It was from Zaeed, the grizzled old mercenary who had volunteered to search for Shepard. She bit her lip and opened it, fearing the worst. She read it once, quickly, but was forced to go back and re-read it. She thought that surely her eyes must be playing some kind of trick on her, so she spoke the words as she read them.

_Chakwas-_

_Found the Commander. She's wounded bad, but still breathing. Shuttle picked her up about an hour ago. Should be there soon. Tell Vakarian. _

_-Z_

She knocked her tower of papers over in her rush to get the news to Garrus, but was long gone before they hit the floor.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**1 week later**

Garrus paced in front of the door, ignoring the pains from his healing wounds. Most of his burns and cuts had disappeared thanks to medi-gel. Chakwas had put him on heavy antibiotics, and the infection in his shoulder had cleared up relatively quickly. She had agreed to let him out of bed on the one condition that he not over-exert himself. He couldn't help but think that maybe he was disobeying her, but he didn't really care. Ever since she told him about Shepard, he had been very agitated, desperate to see his Shep. It didn't matter to him that Shep would most likely be asleep; he just wanted to confirm her existence with his own eyes, just to be sure this wasn't some drug-induced fantasy. The seemingly permanent loss of Shepard had been by far the most painful thing he'd ever had to deal with, and he wanted desperately for the news to be true that she was back.

Garrus turned, body stiff and alert as a doctor exited Shepard's room. The man looked less than thrilled at letting the turian inside, but he guessed the doctors on this floor had discussed his 'problem patient' nature and knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he got to see Shepard.

"Can I…"

"In a moment. She's awake, but she's very groggy. You need to be extremely careful; don't lean on her or put any pressure on her. Understand?"

Garrus nodded.

"Five minutes. No more." The doctor stepped aside, holding the door open for him, and he walked past the threshold quickly, before the doctor could change his mind.

He stopped, barely inside the door, as he looked over the female lying in bed. Half of her face was bandaged and she was very pale, but undoubtedly she was…

"Shepard." He whispered, unable to believe his eyes. She was covered in blankets, the bed a mass of tubes and wires all connected to her. She looked so frail that it would be impossible for someone who didn't know to tell this was the Mighty Commander Shepard, but under the smell of antiseptic, he could smell her. Scents never changed, and hers was unforgettable; spicy and bright, like citrus fruit and the crushed leaves of certain plants on Palaven. Even though she was raised human, she smelled undeniably of his home.

He walked up to the side of the bed, and she turned her head to look at him, green eyes almost obscured by her drooping eyelids.

"Hey…" Her voice was soft and slurred, confirming what he already knew; she was heavily doped on painkillers. He knew she preferred the pain over the confusion and hated to see her like this.

"Shep, I…."

"Shh. I know." She told him , reaching towards him with one hand but lacking the strength to lift it and touch him. He gently wormed his fingers underneath hers so her hand was resting in his. A soft smile spread across her face.

"C'mere, big guy."

He leaned down towards her, touching the side of her neck with his face. Her breath was warm against the side of his neck; her scent intoxicatingly strong in his nose and mouth. She sighed softly.

"Love you." She told him faintly, her hand lightly squeezing his.

"Love you too, Shep." He responded almost instinctively as she slipped back to sleep, his nose still against her neck. A deep, content thrumming was working its way up through his sub-vocals, and he didn't stop it. He held her hand as she slept, unwilling to leave her side. Five minutes were over too soon, and he reluctantly pulled back from Shepard when the doctor came to get him. As he straightened, he spoke to her, even though she couldn't hear him.

"Glad you came back."

She had no idea how glad.

**A/N: It's done, folks! First finished FF by me! WOOT!**

**Was it worth? Did you like? If so, leave a review and this could be followed up with some shorts.**

**Hope you all enjoyed it! Be sure to check out Manic Effect! (It's awesome, I promise!)**


	3. Homeward Bound

**A/N: This one is back! I was reading through other FFs the other day and I found a really excellent one that gave me ideas for this! I am planning an especially lovely chapter for this coming Valentine's day, and I hope you all will enjoy it. At least another two are planned after this.**

Once they finally started letting visitors in, the Normandy crew trickled in to see her, bringing a contingent of get-well cards and trinkets with them. Tali offered a dried flower from Rannoch, and Joker, an especially crude card that named, in no uncertain terms, twenty different ways to annoy her doctors while she was on the mend. But Garrus was the only one who came back every day, spending as much time as he could with her. Some days he talked with her about the events going on outside hospital walls while she was stuck in bed, other days he just told jokes and stories to amuse her. When she let slip she was bored, he obliged with a brand new omni-tool and about a thousand different books in digital format, and February 14, he brought a box of chocolates that stood almost up to his knees. She stared at him in shock when he carried it through the door.

"What did you do, Garrus? Buy the biggest box you could find?"

"Yes. It is big enough, isn't it? I read on the extranet giving chocolates is traditional for Val…Val" He stalled at the pronunciation and scowled. "…February 14th ."

"Valentine's Day. If I didn't know better," she responded, slightly annoyed, "I'd say you were trying to make me fat, Vakarian."

He smirked at her and promptly left again, returning with a large varren stuffed animal. Then he'd insisted they watch _Fleet and Flotilla _together. She had protested, but he'd responded that it was a classic romance flick and that they needed to see it. She had consented and at the end she concluded that the movie wasn't all that bad. Garrus had just responded with "I told you so", acting smugger than ever that he'd been right. She didn't know whether to slap him or kiss him at this, and compromised by grabbing his mandibles, pulling him down, and planting a kiss right on his nose. He had nipped her jaw lightly in return, and then pulled away, rubbing his mandibles as the doctor barged in, ordering him out because he'd been in Shepard's room too long.

Between these visits from him, however, she was desperately bored, and even reading books on her omni got old after a while. She generally didn't like hospitals, having spent far too much time in them in her life. All she had to occupy her time was physical therapy, and Shepard was very bad at being bored. On the Normandy, between missions, she always found ways to occupy her time: research or maintenance or talking with the crew over a couple card games. So when she was finally told she could leave in a few days, she was thoroughly relieved. Garrus too, was thrilled, and told Shepard that he'd get the hospital to keep quiet about her release _or else_.

At long last, one of the nurses brought a wheelchair and detached her from the machines. She changed into street clothes with Garrus' help, and he draped what appeared to be an extra-long traveling cloak around her shoulders.

"It's raining outside," he told her, helping her pull the overlarge sleeves on her bare forearms. "And the hood will hide your face."

She surreptitiously sniffed the fabric. The clothing item undoubtedly belonged to Garrus; his scent lingered all over it like pleasant campfire smoke. He helped her sit down. Maybe she'd gotten used to people fussing over her, but she didn't object to the treatment. Or maybe it was just Garrus she didn't mind fussing over her. She didn't know, and frankly she didn't care. She was finally getting back to normality.

Garrus dropped her toy varren in her lap and started pushing the wheelchair towards the door. She huddled back into the thick turian cloak, enjoying its warmth.

"Hey Garrus." She called up to him.

"Hm?"

"Where can I get one of these?"

Garrus chuckled, and she felt her insides shiver in pleasure. She loved to hear him laugh. His voice was like music, and she'd often dreamed of him singing. He wouldn't, of course, but the fantasy remained with her.

"Tell you what: if you're a good patient, I'll get one made for you."

"Do I have to be good?"

He laughed. "We'll see, though I don't think the doctors will take too kindly if you have to come back because you've hurt yourself again."

At the hospital doors, she said a thank-you to her doctors.

"Thank _You, _Commander." One of them returned. "Without you, we wouldn't be here."

She flushed at this honesty, and Garrus leaned down to her.

"Ready to go, love?"

Embarrassed, she murmured a soft "yeah". He pulled the hood over her head. It fell past her nose, and she grinned as he kissed her on the cheek. She kept her head down as the doors opened, ready for the resultant rush of shouts and questioning. Instead she heard just one voice.

"Mr. Vakarian, may I speak with-"

Garrus growled, deep and threatening, and the woman gave a tiny squeak and went silent. They made it to the aircar without further incident and Garrus helped her into her seat, telling her not to take the hood off until the doors were closed. She heard him get in beside her, and then he pulled the hood back.

"Spirits, why can't they just leave you alone?"

"Because they're vultures. They'll do anything to get a good story."

"Including throttle their own mothers, I bet." Garrus said darkly.

"But there weren't as many as I expected. How did you manage that?"

"I don't think it was me so much as the doctors. They wouldn't let you fall prey to those rabid varren. Not after what you've done."

"Hey, Garrus." She had just noticed something peculiar. "Is this waterproof too?" She asked, picking at a sleeve of the cloak and sending water droplets flying.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "It rains a lot on Palaven, and you're in trouble if you get stuck or lost out in the elements."

"So are you going to tell me where you're taking me?"

"My apartment. We'll get settled there, and when you're feeling up to it, then we can go out to the-"

"Don't tell me you picked out a vacation home!" she interrupted.

"I did, as a matter of fact. Somewhere far away from nosy reporters."

"Where?"

"That's a surprise. You'll find out soon." He told her smoothly.

She punched his shoulder and shook out her hand. He glanced at her, barely concealing a smirk.

"I think that hurt you more than me."

"Jerk."

"Hey, I'm not the one who goes around punching people. Just saying."

She laughed, and when it had subsided, she leaned against his hard, strong shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and put his nose against her head.

"I missed you." He murmured, his mandibles catching slightly on her hair.

"Missed you too, Scars."

The aircar settled, and Garrus got out. She opened the door on her side and stood. Garrus offered a hand to her, and she took it. An instant later, she found herself wrapped in his arms as he swept her off her feet.

"Uh…what are you doing?"

"I saw this in a human vid. The knight carries the princess home in his arms." He told her confidently, letting himself into his apartment.

She laughed. "Very funny, big guy," she said. "But you can put me down now. We're here and I can walk by myself."

"Nope." They had entered his bedroom. "Doctor says you need rest. I know you. If someone doesn't make you stay, you won't stay."

"Garrus!" she protested. "I was on bed rest for over a month! At least let me help you unpack!"

"No." He laid her on the bed, his fingers curling around her shoulders and holding her to the mattress. She could break his hold, but she really didn't want to hurt him, and the look in his eyes was predatory. He would fight back if she resisted, and she would only wind up severely hurt. "You are not going back to the hospital. You stay in this bed and get some rest. That's an order."

"You're going to regret this later, you big lizard." She grumbled, relaxing into the mattress.

"Sure, but now's not later. I'll call you for dinner in a few hours. You can make me regret this then." He straightened. "You'd better be here when I come back, or I'll tie you to the bed."

She snorted, crossing her arms as she stared up at him. "You wouldn't."

"I would if it means you get better faster." He made for the door. "Go to sleep, Shepard. I'll see you soon."

Scowling, she pulled off his cloak, which was making her sweat, and balled it up. She was about to push it to the floor when she once more caught the scent of him embedded in the fabric. She buried her face in it and sniffed. Spirits, she loved the smell of him. She wrapped her arms around the bundle and closed her eyes. She must have been more tired than she thought, because within minutes, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.


	4. Meteor Shower

**I promised you guys a Valentine's Day chapter, and here it is! A little early, but please enjoy! Luv all of you! :)**

"Dreams never die; when we sleep

Beneath the open sky; and the deep

Shades overhead

Of Blue and Red"

-Owl City, Blue and Red

He fingered the tiny box in his pocket, shifting uncomfortably in his suit. It was cool out here, too cool for him, and the suit he wore was a little thin. But he wouldn't leave. Too long he'd waited for this moment, and though he'd technically proposed, this time it was going to be for real. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to rid himself of his anxiety. He hoped she would like it more than the traditional fancy dinner despite being roused in the middle of the night. Two weeks had passed since her release from the hospital, and the doctors finally gave her permission to leave the planet. He'd already purchased tickets, but he wanted to do this before they left. It was much harder to see the stars where they would be headed off to.

He'd set this up as a surprise, insisting on not telling her the details. When she'd asked why, he'd told her _just be there_. He'd slipped out of the house around 2 a.m. and sent a message at 2:30 to wake her. The problem was, she hadn't responded. He checked his omni. It was nearing 3 a.m, and if Shepard didn't hurry, the surprise would be ruined. He compulsively checked his tool again. 2:54. Damn it. He'd lose his nerve if he kept checking his tool every minute, and he took a deep breath. _Hurry up, Shepard…._

"Garrus? You out here?"

He started, turned and saw her. She wandered across the grass towards him, probably half-blind in the almost pitch-darkness. He felt suddenly very glad he'd worn his visor.

"Shepard."

"Hey, Spikes."

Her teeth shone for a short moment as she made her way to him, and he pulled her into his embrace. "I wanted this to be a surprise."

"What are we doing out here, big guy? Looking at the stars?"

"You'll see." He told her slyly. "Sit down. I brought a blanket."

He sat next to her, and she plunked down next to him without an ounce of grace.

"So what am I supposed to be seeing out here anyway?"

"Just wait, Shepard."

"Patience isn't one of my strong points, Garrus." She told him, flashing another grin.

He checked his omni-tool. "Don't worry." He put an arm around her. "Come here. You're freezing."

"I'm fine, Garrus. Honestly." She lied. He could feel the tiny bumps on her arms that indicated her body temperature had dropped and refused to let go. She relaxed into him centimeter by centimeter as his body heat washed over her, cuddling up against his cowl.

"Mmm. You're warm." She murmured after a few minutes, putting her arms around him.

"See? You were cold." He chided. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." She shifted against him. "I can't see a damn thing out here. Other than stars."

"Do you want to try my visor on?"

"…Sure." She sounded puzzled. He pulled it off and handed it over, helping her clip it on in the dark. Unlike her, he could see quite well without it.

"…This thing is heavy. How can you stand wearing it all the time?"

"Human necks aren't as muscular. There." He activated it with a button press. "Now look at the stars."

She craned her neck up and whispered a soft "wow". He smiled broadly. He knew what she saw; constellations, both turian and human, outlined in the stars.

"Is this what you always see through your visor?"

He snorted. "You've worn it before; you should know."

"Yes, but never to go stargazing before. This thing is amazing."

"I'm glad you like it."

She continued gazing upward, looking about this way and that, then leaned back on him, yawning hugely.

"Think I'm gonna take a nap…" She murmured.

"You do that. I'll wake you later."

He pulled his cloak around their shoulders as Shepard took his visor off, wrapping them both in its warmth. She snuggled up to him under his arm and closed her eyes.

He stared out at the stars, waiting expectantly. It was late, and he felt a stab of concern. _What if he had recorded the wrong day? _Shepard's breathing slowed into the easy rhythm of sleep before he saw the first one: a streak of silver light across the sky. The meteor shower had begun.

He waited for a long moment, making sure it wasn't a fluke, but the meteors only came thicker and faster.

"Shepard. Shepard, wake up."

Her eyes opened, and her face scrunched in displeasure. "What, Garrus? I had just-"

"Look up."

She gasped as meteor after meteor streaked past overhead, then stood, her head tracking the shooting stars as they sped across the night sky. He swallowed, suddenly trembling as he again felt the tiny box in his pocket. He carefully pulled the cloak off his shoulders, getting to one knee. Her wrists were pale in the moonlight, and he reached out and took hers, finally drawing her attention away from the meteorites.

"Shepard," His voice had become embarrassingly hoarse. Her eyes widened as she saw the ring box in his other hand. "Will you marry me?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, putting a hand to her mouth, which had spread wide in a brilliant smile. He started as he saw tears gather in the corner of her eyes. He pulled her into his arms.

"Don't cry," he told her, an upset edge to his tone. She gave a hiccuping laugh.

"Oh, Garrus." She murmured, wiping tears from her eyes. "I…I…Yes. Of course."

He gently reached out and wiped the tears from her face, then leaned down and kissed her, long and deep. When he broke away, he could feel the cool dampness of her tears on his face as he slipped the ring onto her finger. The light from his visor caught it, illuminating the band. A set of rubies and a pair of small sapphires flanked the large diamond,all held between two entwined angel wings beautifully crafted in gold.

"Garrus, it's beautiful. Thank you."

He put his arm around her. "Do you want to stay here or…?"

"Let's stay. Just for a few minutes."

As he held her, watching the meteors, a deep, contented thrumming worked his way up his throat. In his subvocals, he repeated the same thing over and over again, letting it vibrate through his throat and chest so that his beloved would feel it: _I love you more than life itself_. She looked up at him, eyes still sparkling with tears, and leaned close. His ears barely picked out her whisper.

"I love you too, Garrus Vakarian."


End file.
